by Claude-Jean Harel
It is as though Alberta’s Canadian Badlands region was created to mystify visitors.
It takes time to take in the lay of the land when the land is not laid quite as neatly as what one is used to. They don’t call them Badlands for nothing.
I recently had the opportunity to spend a little quality time with some of the finest people in and around the Badlands at a tourism product development workshop in Drumheller.
Most of these folks spent all their life in southern Alberta. Some grew up here, left for a while to seek greener pastures and eventually came back. Others came from elsewhere—somehow they figured that this was the right place for them.
This part of the world goes against all design. It was carved by glacial forces that eventually yielded some of the best-known paleontological specimens in the world.
The geography of dinosaurs evidenced by remains of the Albertosaurus—the most common of the large carnivores found here—and the tamer Edmontosaurus, a large plant-eating, duck-billed dinosaur, attest to the particular sense of place inspired partly by both of members of this archaic duo. They do occupy choice spots in the Pantheon of the Cretacious.
The landscape itself defies description so much that you never know when prairie will yield to valleys, canyons, hoodoos or rivers.
Early settlers must have gone mad at times trying to figure out how to get across the Red Deer River. Building a bridge around every corner perhaps was the only logical way to render accessible this mauled terrain.
Equally daunting must have been the prevailing weather patterns in places like the Cypress Hills to the east.
This 20-mile wide plateau straddling the Alberta-Saskatchewan border over 80 miles in length is also Canada’s highest point between the Rockies and the Appalachians at 4,800 feet above sea level. This means that the climate is slightly moister up there and that lodgepole pine forests grow densely in the valleys. It is a rugged landscape.
Hardship was almost a way of life there at times. In 1906, a particularly nasty snowstorm buried cattle alive in places. Storms decimated about half of cattle herds in the region then.
Ranchers who graze their cattle in Cypress Hills Interprovincial Park today have a very simple ritual when they get ready to round up the cows and calves to wean them and organize the family reunion with the bulls. They grab a piece of bailing twine and tie on their hat with it, as the morning ride through pastures is sure to throw a few unexpected branches in their face.
By the time the cowboys bring back 100 or so cows and the matching calves that have agreed to come home that morning, they have been mostly galloping for seven hours. The horse needs a break and your legs feel like a ton of brick. It is time for a nap. I know… I tried it and I’ll do it again every chance I get.
These people who live in the Hills; these people who live in Brooks, Hanna and Medicine Hat; and these folks who look after the steam railway engine in Stettler all have in their head the collective wisdom of generations past, waiting to be shared with guests who dare go off the beaten track.
Funny how individual and personal stories are sometimes just waiting to be told. Their stewards just need a bit of a nudge.
Pat Mulgrew recently retired from a 31-year career as an educator with the Correctional Service of Canada. His last assignment was that of school principal at the Drumheller Institution, a medium-security facility for men. He basically looked after the needs of students finding themselves in somewhat special circumstances.
Pat loves people. He was ready for a change of career. He launched Wild West Jurassic Tours; got himself a 15-passenger van; developed some local itineraries and he is now taking guests around Horsethief Canyon, the Ghost Town of Wayne and across the Red Deer River on the Bleriot ferry. East Coulee, the Atlas Coal Mine and the famed Royal Tyrrell Museum are other stops along his route.
I couldn’t help notice the wooden tent signs with Pat’s colourful Wild West Jurassic Tours logo in the lobby of my hotel. I approached the front desk attendant and asked if she’d met him? “Yes, he is just the nicest guy and people seem to like his tours.”
Sometimes those who have the richest vision about life, adaptation, and communities are best appreciated when met in their natural environment. Pat’s is the Canadian Badlands. He brings to life his knowledge during his interpretation of life around these parts, while remaining true to himself. He is the “salt of the earth” type, whose greatest asset perhaps is his passion.
Click here for more information on Alberta
Click here for more information on Saskatchewan
It is as though Alberta’s Canadian Badlands region was created to mystify visitors.
It takes time to take in the lay of the land when the land is not laid quite as neatly as what one is used to. They don’t call them Badlands for nothing.
I recently had the opportunity to spend a little quality time with some of the finest people in and around the Badlands at a tourism product development workshop in Drumheller.
Most of these folks spent all their life in southern Alberta. Some grew up here, left for a while to seek greener pastures and eventually came back. Others came from elsewhere—somehow they figured that this was the right place for them.
This part of the world goes against all design. It was carved by glacial forces that eventually yielded some of the best-known paleontological specimens in the world.
The geography of dinosaurs evidenced by remains of the Albertosaurus—the most common of the large carnivores found here—and the tamer Edmontosaurus, a large plant-eating, duck-billed dinosaur, attest to the particular sense of place inspired partly by both of members of this archaic duo. They do occupy choice spots in the Pantheon of the Cretacious.
The landscape itself defies description so much that you never know when prairie will yield to valleys, canyons, hoodoos or rivers.
Early settlers must have gone mad at times trying to figure out how to get across the Red Deer River. Building a bridge around every corner perhaps was the only logical way to render accessible this mauled terrain.
Equally daunting must have been the prevailing weather patterns in places like the Cypress Hills to the east.
This 20-mile wide plateau straddling the Alberta-Saskatchewan border over 80 miles in length is also Canada’s highest point between the Rockies and the Appalachians at 4,800 feet above sea level. This means that the climate is slightly moister up there and that lodgepole pine forests grow densely in the valleys. It is a rugged landscape.
Hardship was almost a way of life there at times. In 1906, a particularly nasty snowstorm buried cattle alive in places. Storms decimated about half of cattle herds in the region then.
Ranchers who graze their cattle in Cypress Hills Interprovincial Park today have a very simple ritual when they get ready to round up the cows and calves to wean them and organize the family reunion with the bulls. They grab a piece of bailing twine and tie on their hat with it, as the morning ride through pastures is sure to throw a few unexpected branches in their face.
By the time the cowboys bring back 100 or so cows and the matching calves that have agreed to come home that morning, they have been mostly galloping for seven hours. The horse needs a break and your legs feel like a ton of brick. It is time for a nap. I know… I tried it and I’ll do it again every chance I get.
These people who live in the Hills; these people who live in Brooks, Hanna and Medicine Hat; and these folks who look after the steam railway engine in Stettler all have in their head the collective wisdom of generations past, waiting to be shared with guests who dare go off the beaten track.
Funny how individual and personal stories are sometimes just waiting to be told. Their stewards just need a bit of a nudge.
Pat Mulgrew recently retired from a 31-year career as an educator with the Correctional Service of Canada. His last assignment was that of school principal at the Drumheller Institution, a medium-security facility for men. He basically looked after the needs of students finding themselves in somewhat special circumstances.
Pat loves people. He was ready for a change of career. He launched Wild West Jurassic Tours; got himself a 15-passenger van; developed some local itineraries and he is now taking guests around Horsethief Canyon, the Ghost Town of Wayne and across the Red Deer River on the Bleriot ferry. East Coulee, the Atlas Coal Mine and the famed Royal Tyrrell Museum are other stops along his route.
I couldn’t help notice the wooden tent signs with Pat’s colourful Wild West Jurassic Tours logo in the lobby of my hotel. I approached the front desk attendant and asked if she’d met him? “Yes, he is just the nicest guy and people seem to like his tours.”
Sometimes those who have the richest vision about life, adaptation, and communities are best appreciated when met in their natural environment. Pat’s is the Canadian Badlands. He brings to life his knowledge during his interpretation of life around these parts, while remaining true to himself. He is the “salt of the earth” type, whose greatest asset perhaps is his passion.
Click here for more information on Alberta
Click here for more information on Saskatchewan
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